


The Quest for the Necromancer

by OwenCopper



Category: Original Work
Genre: Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:00:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26142988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OwenCopper/pseuds/OwenCopper
Summary: A group of adventurer's have caught on that something wrong has been going down in their town. A horrible evil has proliferated throughout. A horrid necromancer. And they think they know where they are- the mansion atop the hill that no one wants to speak about.
Kudos: 2





	The Quest for the Necromancer

Desperation was carved into every inch of their faces. He took an abundant amount of joy with each and every one, to the lines drawn tight in the old one, to the manic light in the young ones. They all knew what had to be done, but there was no way he would let them do it. 

“You came much sooner than expected, dear guests,” he said, all polite courtesy and niceties, as if unknowing that his guests desired his head. “I have not yet had time to prepare a banquet as I would have desired. However, if I could direct you to the waiting room….” 

“Stop your bullshit you dead-ass necromancer!” Cried a fierce woman, clad in armor from neck to toe. “You’ll be dead by day’s end!”

“Necromancer?” He said. “Necromancer? Where have you heard that from? I am a mere servant of my lord Tiron. I have faithfully served him for 30 years. Would you like some tea?” 

“You can not hide it, blasphemer.” growled a man whose skin was drawn tight with age. “We know it’s you!”

“Are those silly school children spreading rumors again? That a necromancer lives here? Preposterous! Can you smell death? Can you smell corpses? No! We are responsible here, we burn all our corpses just as the king orders.” Of course, he thought, the corpses are all just hidden in underground rooms that are drowned in the thick, sweet scent of flowers.

“B-but… there is a necromancer. We know that, and this is our best lead!” A young girl, this time, too young to even hold her fury in the face of his calm. 

“Why would a necromancer even operate here?” he said. “There are dozens of servants and the lord himself who would need to be in on it, and we hold feasts on the month. It would be trivial to discover a necromancer here, if there was.” 

“It’s still you, no matter what your silver tongue may work.” said the grizzled old man. “You look like him.” 

“I look like him!?” he said, his mind furiously trying to figure out when this veteran ever saw his face. “...that is, it’s not uncommon for two people to look similar through sheer coincidence. For example,” he gestured at the old man, “I distinctly remember a barber on seventh street who seems to have an uncanny resemblance to you.” That was a lie. They were only similar at first glance- they both had greying hear and taut skin. But the barber’s cheekbones were high and sharp, with piercing blue eyes and a smooth haircut. The old man had low cheekbones, brown eyes, and his hair was slightly frazzled.

“I… believe in my eyes,” the old man said, but it was clear he was doubting himself. Hesitation was a weakness, the necromancer knew. And they would all die for it. 

“I’ll repeat my previous question now; would you like some tea?” The crowd murmured to itself, unsure and hesitant. They did not trust him, but they were swayed by his argument. “I’ll go get it right away,” he said, without waiting for the adventurers to reach a final verdict. 

It took him only a few moments to fetch the tea; he had already ordered it to be prepared as soon as he noticed the adventurers approaching the building. “Here is your tea. It’s a black tea from the east, priced at 80 gold pieces a cup. It’s the lord’s favorite.” He passed out the tea cups to each and every one of them. Even the old man took a cup. 

He bowed. “Please enjoy your tea. I have sent for lord Tiron in case you wish to continue your inquisition against this necromancer.” He then disappeared into the shadows.

“What do you think about him?” asked a robed woman, savoring her tea.

“...There is something shifty about him,” said a burly warrior to her right. “But he’s probably not the necromancer.” He then brought the tea to his lips and chugged the entire cup.

The woman cringed at the sight. “Jared, that’s disgusting. Would it really hurt to exercise a bit of manners.”

He laughed in her face. “Of course it would!”

“May I get your attention?” The necromancer once again reappeared. Every adventurer in the room snapped their head in his direction. “It was a pleasure knowing you. Please become my ghouls now.” 

“I knew it!” the old man attempted to scream, but it was drowned out by the sound of his own bones cracking inside of him. He managed to get two feet closer to the necromancer before he collapsed entirely from the excruciating pain of his guts boiling and his bones snapping. 

The entrance room was filled with the sounds of gurgles and cracks, moans and snaps. They echoed and resounded.

“I poisoned the tea, of course.” The necromancer said to the dead room. “You made it closer than the rest.”


End file.
